You Saved Me
by zentanglebubblegum0727
Summary: Because even if you stop loving a person, you can never stop feeling for them. AU.


Her first love was someone who was more than 20 years older than her. And a different branch. Ekaterina, to be exact. She didn't quite remember when, but once, she had come to him. Well, not purposely. Some people would call it fate, some people would call it foreshadowing, and some would think it as luck. He was a student at Harvard, and she was just a little unimportant Tomas who had wandered stupidly into the picturesque building full of knowledge and truth— _Veritas._

She couldn't quite remember how she got to stumbling around in those beautiful white corridors, feeling like she was encased in a chasm of white, white, white. Afraid of these identical halls, she stumbled down some intricately carved stairs and miserably leaned into the wall behind her. And she fell.

Getting up and rubbing her head, she realized that the 'wall' she had leaned into was actually a door, slightly ajar. She heard a tinkling sound behind her. Startled, she whirled around, one of her ponytails whipping into her face. She had expected a professor, a handful of students, and an array of excuses and apologies. Instead, she found herself looking at a good-looking Asian man. Black hair, glinting brown eyes, average height. He had every reason to shun her off, but he didn't. She realized that she knew him—he had come along when her parents had had to talk with Bay Oh? Bae Oh? It didn't really matter.

The man blinked. "Oh, you're the little Tomas girl that I saw before!" he said, smiling kindly. "Can you remind me of your name?" He put down the small container of some chemical that he had been examining and gestured towards her.

"Mary-Todd." Her eyes were still dilated in fear, wide and innocent despite her stocky frame.

"Hello, again," the man ruffled her hair, "My name is Alistair."

"Hi," she was still timid. "What is that?" she pointed her index finger at the chemicals Alistair had been contemplating.

"I'm conducting an experiment," he answered, "to preserve things—preferably for a long time—by using a chemical. Then I'm planning to make some sort of microwavable food. Burritos, maybe."

"Oh." She cocked her head.

"Would you like to hear about how I'm going to mix these?" he waved at the multiple liquids in front of him.

Mary-Todd nodded eagerly, willing to listen if she could spend more time with this striking Ekat. And so Alistair launched into a full-scale explanation about his new invention.

"…and finally, if you add more than twenty grams of vertinox, if could result in freezing so complete that it might take more than ten minutes to cook, and who would buy something like that?" he rolled his eyes, and Mary-Todd giggled. "Do you want to want to watch me? I mean, don't you have to go home?"

"Daddy told me to be home by seven."

Glancing quickly at his wristwatch, Alistair smiled. "Then I guess we have plenty of time. Do you know that this is my last chance?"

Confused, Mary-Todd shook her head. "What do you mean?"

"The University won't let me continue if I fail on this." Alistair looked grim. "So help me out, won't you?" He winked.

And so she watched intently until his hand closed over two-point-five grams of liquid in a triangular beaker. "Stop!" she cried, and Alistair, startled, almost dropped it. "You almost wrecked your experiment!"

"Why?" Alistair seemed neither angry nor annoyed, just curious. This surprised Mary-Todd. That one time she accidentally knocked over her brother's racing car set…

"I…you said," She swallowed, "You said that if you add too much of vertinox, it would freeze too hard and you were just about to add two-point-five grams to the eighteen grams you had already added."

Alistair looked surprised and panicked as his eyes flitted over to the beaker still clutched in his hand. "My gosh, you're right!" he cried, slamming the beaker down. A droplet of purplish liquid splattered on the table. "You saved me, Mary-Todd!" He kissed her on the forehead, and Mary-Todd flushed a bright red.

"I saved you?" she asked, still flushed.

"Yes! I told you, I wouldn't have…would not have been able…" he was astounded—he hadn't actually expected the little girl to understand. "You're extremely clever—a smart one for sure."

"Really?" All her life, relatives had looked down on her because she was a Tomas, and Tomas were _brawns but no brains_ and _stupid_ and _brash._ And here he was, this striking and wonderful Ekaterina, her savior—this genius actually telling her that she was clever. A smart one. And Ekaterinas were supposed to be the smart ones. They were supposed to be _inventive_ and _innovated_ and _inspired. They_ were the amazing ones.

"Thank you!" he cried, and humming to himself, he had completed the concoction, tested it out, and apparently found it satisfactory. Telling her to wait, he had run off full-speed to some professors and came back a few minutes later, a grin stretching from ear to ear. "I'll take you home." He said to her, and they had walked home hand in hand, Alistair almost skipping along to his own humming.

But when she had gone back to the school in a few weeks, she heard that Alistair, the wonderful, enigmatic, flamboyant Ekaterina was...gone. Simply gone. Gone back to Korea. But she couldn't tell her family. So she had lived life, tried to forget him, yet laughing out loud in delight when she found a newspaper article declaring: _"South Korean Alistair Oh Invents Microwavable Burritos!"_

She had to sit through the lectures given by her father about how _all the other branches were trash_ and how the _damned Madrigals raided our Branch again_ and how the _worst branch of all was those_ cursed _Ekaterinas!_ She had to bite her lip. Because Alistair wasn't cursed or bad at all. Madrigals, yes, they were bad, but Ekaterinas? She wasn't so sure about that.

She didn't see him for a decade, and the next time she had spotted him, he had deteriorated immensely. Gone was the handsome charmer with kind words. She had shaken off Eisenhower and gone to see him.

"Congratulations on finally perfecting the Microwavable Burrito." She had said with a smile.

"Thank you, Mary-Todd." He remembered her. He had smiled back at her, and for just a moment, she saw a flash of the man he had once been. Charismatic, good-looking, understanding. "Congratulations on a successful marriage. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to attend."

"Thank you. But it's really all right." She was happy with her husband. He was a wonderful person. She didn't have any feelings of love toward Alistair anymore, but still. It could have been nice to catch up at her wedding.

And then...Grace. That _witch_ had come along, and _she_ had killed Alistair. _She_ was the reason for the hunt. And the Vespers. After his funeral, she had sobbed in a secluded place. Why? They had barely talked over the hunt, and she hadn't stopped her husband when he gave death threats to Alistair. But still.

Even though you stop loving a person, you can never stop _feeling_ for them.

And she had felt for him. Very deeply.


End file.
